


Tempering the Two

by LadyChi



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-26
Updated: 2011-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:15:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyChi/pseuds/LadyChi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt at the bitesize_bones LJ community. It requested a play on "temperance".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempering the Two

  
**Temper (verb): to bring to a proper, suitable, or desirable state by or as by blending or admixture.**

 **Tempering the Two**

 

She screams for the first three hours. Nearly unceasingly, beating at the roof of the trunk, tears streaming down her face. There isn't enough oxygen. Rationally, she knows there is, but she can't seem to force it down into her lungs. Her brain can't think. It's extremely frustrating that she can't seem to shut off the hysteria, but then, she is only sixteen years old and her body is something she hasn't figured out yet. Its rhythms, idiosyncrasies and quirks seem just beyond her control at the best of times.

Eventually, she calms. The screaming fades to something like acceptance, and the dark of the trunk soothes her to a sort of fitful sleep, punctuated by dreams. Dreams of the dish falling and shattering into pieces so fragile they'll never be swept up, never be put whole again.

Over and over again she dreams of the look on Anne's face, the calm resolution as she banished her to the trunk of the car. This, Temperance knows, is all her fault. She is a clumsy child. She can do better. She would do better. She can teach fingers how to be precise, she can teach herself to speak exactly what words are needed, no more, no less.

When the lid of the trunk finally opens, she rubs her eyes, ashamed that she can't stop the tears of gratefulness at the light of the sun and the fresh air.

That surge of gratefulness is the last thing she will really feel for a long time.

**

Booth's Dad is drunk again. It's a common enough occurrence, but it's really starting to piss Seeley off that he can't come home like a normal kid and throw a ball around with his Dad and wrestle with his brother.

His mom's starting to look like she's made of china. Like if you touch her the wrong way she might break at any moment, and Seeley's not sure he's strong enough for that.

He gets Jared ready in the mornings, he gets them both to school. In the afternoon, he helps Mom get the house ready for Dad but something is always, always, always not right.

The toilet's not clean or there's a dish in the sink, and then Dad's after Mom, and Seeley's not sure how many more punches he can take to the jaw before he snaps back.

Seeley's thirteen years old.

**

The doctors ask her questions like, “Did he ever touch you inappropriately?”

“How did that make you feel, Temperance?”

“Can you share with me how you think about your parents leaving?”

No. She cannot share, she will not share. There's nothing empirical about her experience. There's no data to draw rational conclusions from. Her parents left. Her brother left. She lived in hell, and now she's out. There's no magical reason why these things are. They just are.

The doctors can visit that hell, and then come back and ask her how it _felt_.

She hates psychology.

**

Pops is really good about not saying anything. About just sitting there and let Seeley tell him what he wants to say, and really paying attention. It's not like all the other grown-ups around who listen with half an ear and move on to more important things. Pops is the master of listening. He doesn't ever ask about Mom, which is good, because Seeley can't say that he thinks Dad killed her. If not on purpose, then on accident. Seeley kind of figures that Mom just gave up. She got cancer and she just gave up.

Only one day, Seeley says the wrong thing. He gives away the wrong information, and then Pops is coming to the house, picking up Jared and Seeley, and they don't see Dad anymore.

The counselors at school and Pops, they tell him it's not his fault. He's glad the hitting has stopped, but he knows there's a look in Jared's eye that he's responsible for... it's the look of an orphan.

**

It's time to do something about her lack of sexual experience. Those around her seem obsessed with it, and Temperance is nearly finished with her undergrad work. It seems a bit silly to attempt to integrate a new experience into her life when she's already making massive shifts, so she decides to be preemptive.

Paul's a grad student with the deepest blue eyes. Temperance can't deny the spark of attraction between them and one day, it occurs to her that he could be a good candidate. He's older, and the women around her tell her that he's experienced and skilled.

He invites her to his apartment, and she accepts. There is wine, conversation that is riveting and intellectually stimulating, and eventually... sexual intercourse.

He is gentle, and patient and skilled. Overall, it is a very pleasant experience. Temperance supposes she might repeat it in the future.

**

Guatemala is hotter than hell and muggy as fuck and their clothes stick to them like glue. They make their way stealthily through the jungle, and then down abandoned and neglected roads until they come to the village.

Then there's three days of camping, of casing the shot. Of waiting for the exact right moment.

Breathe in, shoot... exhale.

He can't see the damage he's just done, but he knows the consequence.

The other men celebrate with alcohol and a party and women. Seeley folds himself into his bed and mulls it over.

He's not sure how much more of this 'render unto Caesar' crap he can take.

**

Angela Montenegro makes her think in poetry. Not sappy, imprecise poetry, but she starts to think about faces on victims. Starts to think about the stories of their deaths and their lives, and that connection she's always felt seems sharpened around this woman who can open all these doors that she's closed in her heart for so long.

Angela says things like, “Sweetie. That man isn't 'reasonably attractive'. He's so yummy I could eat him with a spoon, and lick him up after.”

She says things like, “Love makes you crazy, sweetie. The best kind of crazy.”

She says things like, “You've got to live wide, Bren. You've got to take in something more than bones and dust.”

Angela Montenegro helps her think about what she might be like, if she was a touch more Angela. Kathy Reichs doesn't exist without Angela.

Without Kathy Reichs, there is no Booth and Bones.

**

Rebecca says: “I'm pregnant.” Flat, just like that. No emotion. Seeley's not sure how he's supposed to feel. He knows he's not supposed to feel panicked. He takes a deep breath.

“Marry me.”

“Don't be stupid.” Rebecca shoots him a look. It's one he's well-familiar with by now. It's the one that says he's being a dumb kid again, too attached to ancient labels. “We're not going to get married just because I got pregnant.”

“I want to do the right thing,” Seeley protests.

“Then write a check every month. Jesus, Seeley. Come and see the kid sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Booth is horrified. “Becs. You've got to give me more than sometimes.”

Rebecca covers her face and breathes in. “You've got to give me space. I can't do this right now.”

**

Zack Addy is brilliant. More than a beloved pupil, Zack is her legacy – the piece of herself she will leave behind. Other people may choose to have offspring to accomplish the same thing, but Temperance has never really fancied herself maternal.

He gives his dissertation and she can't help but feel proud of him, knowing how hard he's worked on it, like a new fire's been lit in his soul.

Then he goes to Iraq, because Booth doesn't say something like, “War's no place for a kid like you, Zack.” Or “Your country is using you here.” Booth says something about duty and honor and he comes back, but... he doesn't come back.

She thinks later that she should have pried. She should have been like Booth, pushing and pulling until she got at the canker in Zack's psyche, but that sounds too much like psychology and she really does loathe psychology.

She can't decide if she hates Booth or not.

**

Booth says: “My dad drank.”

He wants to say: “My mom cracked and gave up on life and left me alone and this is what I do now. I fix people cause I couldn't fix that.”

She wants to say: “My parents abandoned me. I was locked in a trunk. I miss my brother so much it hurts sometimes. You have beautiful eyes. I like you the way you are.”

She says nothing.

 

**

She reads him a story. A story she's telling herself because she's got to believe in happy endings, at least in the fictional world. She's got to believe in justice and she's got to believe in their friends and mostly... she's got to believe in Booth.

He swaggers in and out of her imagination, charming and snarky at one moment and gentle and patient the next. When they make love in the dream, yes, he's pleasant and gentle and experienced, but... it's so much more. In the dream, their eyes meet. Their hands know the paths to pleasure and their mouths meet in the middle.

Temperance wishes she could repeat it in the future.

**

Avalon says: “Linked in a very profound manner.”

Gordon Gordon says: “Hope and patience.”

Cam says: “I won't forget what you did for him.”

Booth says: “Be my village.”

**

Everything happens eventually. All things come to pass.

Eventually, they move together in the night.

Eventually, she says “Prove it” and he does.

Eventually, there are rings and wrinkled hands and stories told of time wasted.

For now, though, they are tempering each other. Mix and match until the balance is just right. Then there will be a perfect reaction.


End file.
